


I won't sleep tonight.

by PatrickIsADirtyLittleMan



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Big Gay Love Story, Blind Character, Bottom Pete Wentz, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Times, Joe is hot, M/M, Mutual Pining, Patrick is just such a nice human can we take a moment, Pete Wentz Is Sad, Pete is straight, Sad times, Soul Punk Era Patrick Stump, Strangers to Lovers, Totally, and a bad attempt at humour maybe, andy is bi, hit me with a lead pipe, patrick is rich, patricks mom is a thot, pete has no one, peterick makes me cry at least once a day, there will be smut, tyler and josh are hiding their relationship lol, tyler is patricks best friend (aside from josh god), yup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-01 16:13:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatrickIsADirtyLittleMan/pseuds/PatrickIsADirtyLittleMan
Summary: You never know how life is gonna turn out, Pete thought he knew. He used to be the captain of every team, dating the head cheerleader in highschool. He thought life would be the American dream.Pete didn't know that fate had other ideas.Fate decided that Pete should graduate college and be stuck in a dead end job with no friends or anybody who cared. Oh, and be blind, fate was mean sometimes...





	1. Things that go bump in the night

**Author's Note:**

> So I am excited to start a new fic for the first time this year! Please, enjoy my fluffy otp as much as I do.
> 
> Pete was blinded just after graduating from university, his life is a mess, he has depression, so if you get upset by any of his thoughts etc, please don't continue to read. It wont be too heavy, as the tags explain.
> 
> Josh makes me laugh.

Pete grumbled, dragging his clammy hands down his face in irritation. He had worn the same clothes for weeks, not bothering to change. Feeling no will to continue would do that to you. Pete stunk, not that he cared. He kicked his legs off the bed and stood, feeling around hopelessly for his shoes. After pulling them on haphazardly, falling every so often, he began the arduous process of leaving the house for work.

It had been 3 months since Pete lost his ability to see. It had lost him everything. His ex left him to be with his 'best friend', he couldn't play sports, for obvious reasons. Pete wanted to die. 

He grabbed his bag and carefully stepped out of his apartment, avoiding the step which had given him more bruises than a lifetime of being a jock. It had become second nature to him now, like breathing. He had adapted, sorta.

"Siri, what time is it?" He asked, plodding along slowly, counting how many steps he'd taken so he didn't fall down the stairs and die. Not that anybody would be sad.

"It is 4:58PM, you told me to remind you that you are due in at work in 2 minutes." She finished in her deadpan voice. That was the only voice Pete ever really heard anymore, apart from the arguing couple who lived below him.

Pete grimaced, speeding to a quick pace, nearly tripping down his apartments stairwell as he carelessly hurried to work.

 

 

 

 

 

He was late. Again. After a few hours, he was called into his bosses office. He could feel his boss's eyes burning into his skin as he spoke.

"I know that your condition has debilitated you, but your lateness has constantly, relentlessly let us all down, if one of us is late, all of us are behind on our work. Today, you have only done around 2 hours work in 5 hours. And another thing, your condition has slowed your work down too much, i needed the monthly reports on my desk Monday, it's now Thursday. You stink Pete, In the nicest way possible. You haven't changed your clothes or washed yourself in months. It's getting too much now. I can't have this anymore, no- let me rephrase that. I can't have you anymore." He spoke with venom, causing Pete to tear up. He had nowhere else to go, nobody in his life. His parents had died when he was in his first year at college, he had no girlfriend, no real friends, no life. The only girl he spoke to was siri for fucks sake. He bit back tears and nodded.

"I'm sorry Pete, but we're gonna have to let you go. You're fired." The words stung. He hated his job, but now what did he have left? Standing, almost falling but regaining balance, he stormed out of the office, not looking back, no words of goodbye. He hated his life. 

Not wanting to go back to his miserable hole of an apartment, he decided to take his pity party to the park a few blocks away. Since it was like 10:30PM in december, the night sky would most likely be pitch black, though Pete wouldn't be able to tell either way. That meant that Pete wouldn't look like a paedophile, since there would be no kids there at night.

He counted his steps, 452, 453, until he reached the park. Swinging the gate open, it creaked loudly, making Pete cringe. He tutted and sat on one of the swings, slowly kicking the floor to make him move slightly. Forlorn, the man, well, the kid, sat, sulking and pouting. He had no where to turn.

 

 

 

 

Patrick giggled. He slowly waltzed down the street, his best friend Tyler's arm wrapped around his shoulder. They sang drunkenly along to the songs that they had just seen live. It was Patricks' birthday, and Tyler had surprised him with some tickets for them to see a Prince tribute act. Tyler didn't really care for Prince, but he would do anything with Patrick, so it was okay. They laughed as josh fell over, he'd come too, being Tyler's boyfriend. Maybe josh thought there was something going on between Tyler and Patrick, he always used to tell Patrick to "get your own friend".

Josh and Tyler tried to keep them dating low key, they thought nobody knew, but it was so painfully obvious that they were, it became a running joke within their friend group, excluding the couple. The amount of sexy texts Patrick got from josh that were meant for "someone else" and seconds later, Tyler got a notification from josh, while he was sat next to him, it made Patrick laugh. They were both so cute.

After what seemed like 10 years, the trio made it to Patrick's apartment, and they waved goodbye to him as he walked up to his door. Looking back, Patrick saw Ty and Josh kiss. He just shook his head, laughing at how obvious they made it. Shoving his hands into his pockets, there was no sign of his door key. He panicked and patted down his pockets with all of the composure a drunk dude could muster. They weren't there. He didn't have his house keys. Patrick needed to call a dude to make a new lock and key. He unlocked his phone, seeing the time and groaning. No handyman would come out to him at 11PM. He slapped his face, slightly too hard, and decided to sit in the park on the next block until morning.

 

 

 

 

When Patrick got to the park, it was shrouded in darkness, he couldn't see 2 feet in front of him. walking into the park, careful not to make the gate creak loudly, since it was late, he strolled in, trying to stay steady in his inebriated state. Seeing the park, just barely, excited him, so he ran forwards. Until-

His body made contact with something, a wall? He fell on his ass, as whatever he had bumped into fell over too, it groaned.

Eww what the shit, it just made a noise. Confused, Patrick sat up on his elbows and turned on his phones flashlight and saw a man. No, not a man, a HOT man.

He jumped up instantly.

"Are you okay, I'm so sorry, I'm fucking drunk, I'm an idiot I-"

"It's okay," The voice sounded low and perturbed, "Just pass me my stick please?"

Patrick stopped. He was confused. What stick? He shone his flashlight around, looking for a big branch off a tree or something. 

He paused.

There was a blind mans' cane on the ground, his heart dropped, so did he. 

"I'm so sorry, i- i- i- didn't mean it, i am SO SORRY!" He scrambled to pick up the presumably blind (still very fuckin' hot) man and his stick.

"It's okay, i shouldn't be walking around the park at night like a weirdo. I'm Pete. You are?" Shining the light on his face, Patrick saw his smile, and he instantly calmed down.

"I'm Patrick, I lost my house key so I'm out here, being just as weird as you." The man- Pete laughed, his eyes crinkling up, like josh's when he saw Tyler. 

Petes' eyes were always closed. Patrick felt sad about that. Guilty, even though he had nothing to do with it.

"Since we are both stuck, in our own little way, what do you say we go get some coffee? I could use somebody to make me laugh. I just got fired."

Patrick slowly nodded. Then he realised he was being an idiot and agreed verbally, so Pete knew his response.

Pete laughed, pointing his head in the direction of a starbucks. He was determined to keep up a happy exterior until he got home. Patrick quirked an eye, but followed. This night had been strange...


	2. Why should I worry? Why should I care?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and company, if you live under a rock, is the best film if you like dogs which are called Dodger and could steal your wahmen easily and have the best voice around.
> 
> Enjoy!

"D and D or World of Warcraft?"

"Yeah, no idea what those are."

"Umm... Pokemon or Mario?"

"Hmm... Soccer." Pete laughed, shaking his head. Patrick slumped on the stool, fisting his cheeks in frustration, huffing loudly, so Pete could tell he was fed up. Pete sucked at being a nerd.

"Okay, Queen or the Beatles?" Patrick wondered aloud, Pete taken aback, scoffing.

"What kind of wet sandwich prefers the Beatles to Queen? I know i may look dumb but don't be THAT harsh with me!" He half-joked, scrunching his face up to display his disgust.

"I do apologise, your highness." Patrick conceded, a mock British accent in his voice. Pete pursed his lips and hummed.

The two men had been sat in the Starbucks until it had closed, when they moved shop to a bar nearby. It stank of cigarettes and seedy, seedy people, the kind of market which bars tend to attract at this time of night. Patrick still had a slur in his words, due to his drunken adventure with joshler (his two best friend's relationship name, which Patrick had cleverly just created) earlier that night, he'd yet to mention the fact that it was his birthday today. He sat grinning at Pete, a comfortable silence filled the air.

"So, you said that you had just got fired, enlighten me as to how, bad boy." Patrick laughed coolly, genuinely interested.

"That isn't a very fun story. Maybe one day I'll 'enlighten' you, but for now, we drink." He nodded, keeping his promise to himself of keeping a brave face, even though the fact he just got fired filled Pete with a certain existential dread (which you can only really get when you are well and truly fucked). Patrick smiled at his answer, but hesitated.

"Pete?" Patrick's smile faltered, it was make or break. He nodded enthusiastically, gesturing for Patrick to continue..

"Are you single?"

Pete smirked, about to say something, but holding his tongue.

He tried again, "Yes, I am. I was about to give you a whole speech about my now newly ex girlfriend," Patrick visibly saddened at the word girl, followed by the word friend, which compounded to make one of the most disappointing words an attractive man could ever say to Patrick. "girlfriend." -It meant they were generally hetero. 

"Which would make you feel pity for me, so you would buy the next round, but instead i will simply say; no, i am not dating, nor are you." He smiled. Patrick furrowed his brow.

"How do you know-"

"Oh, please, you were just in a park, drunk, on your own, in the dark, not on the phone, then agreed to come get drinks with a weird blind dude which you met in the darkest depths of a children's play area. You're textbook." He beamed proudly at his observation. Patrick just further bristled.

"I don't really think that you could call this situation 'Textbook' though, could you?" He mused, making Pete smile again, for the millionth time this evening. Patrick liked his smile. A lot.

"You'd be surprised. I pick up all of my victims this way." He said, deadpan, causing Patrick to administer an involuntary, nervous gulp.

After a second of intense silence, Pete slapped his knee and cackled, the alcohol clearly kicking in. 

"I had you then, you were- I- Pffft." He chortled, leaning over to Patrick and lightly punching his shoulder. Patrick scowled.

"Yeah, Yeah. You buying or what?" Patrick bossed, putting on a distinct New York accent as Pete just carried on laughing.

"Brrrrrrr. You're a stone cold biatch, Pat, ya know that?" He laughed and slammed his shotglass onto the counter, gaining the attention of the barman.

"Two more over here, bub." He leaned back, cool and collected.

"How do you do that?" Patrick squinted inquisitively.

"Do what?"

"How are you so fuckin' cool?" Patrick almost yelled.

"Street savoir faire, mon amie." Pete tapped his nose in an 'It's a secret' type of way.

"You got that from 'Oliver and company', Didn't you?" 

"...Yes." 

Patrick groaned in pain, a smile still plastered on his face as he slammed the shot which the barkeep had just supplied. Pete followed suit.


	3. Chicago is SO 2 years ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being blind, Pete's apartment isn't in optimal condition. Floof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think/ how ya feel bout this so far

After their midnight escapade through various alcohol-dispensing establishments, Pete had decided to finally go back to his home, Patrick following in tow. Well, it wasn't really a home, more of a reminder of all that he had lost. He had never seen it, he moved there after being evicted from his last place just after he went blind. It was amazing to even Pete that a place you have never seen, except in your dreams can make you want to take your life so urgently. 

The fact that he spent most of his time either there, or stuck in his soul-sucking office job worsened his condition and served to make him even more bitter. Since Patrick had lost his key, Pete had kindly offered him a place to stay for the night, in exchange for some company. Come to think of it, he hadn't had any guests over since... Well, ever, really. It was a welcome change, though he still had a nagging fear of Patrick walking in, taking all of his valuables and robbing him blind. How ironic. Blind. Maybe that's where the saying comes from. People like Pete, trusting too easily.

Never the less, Pete decided to shut his nagging thoughts up as he started up a conversation with his new friend, carefully keeping track of his steps so he knew where he was headed.

"Mario."

"What?" Patrick laughed, dumbfounded, assuming Pete was drunk.

"You asked me a question earlier. Mario." He stated, little emotion in his voice. This caused concern to swell in Patrick's eyes, which shifted quickly to take in Pete's expression. 

Pete's mouth was slightly open, something like dread painted onto his lips. His nose sniffed as a single tear dripped from it. Why did he look so sullen out of the blue? Patrick's eyes furrowed in consideration, but he said nothing, not wanting to embarrass or upset Pete further.

"Mario... Okay, Pete. Good. I like Mario too!" Patrick tried. It sounded just as false as it was. He didn't know this man well enough to comfort him with anecdotes from their past, fuck, they'd just met. He gulped.

When they reached a slightly worn down apartment block, Pete paused and rummaged in his pockets until he produced a single key with a pink fluffy ball key chain. It made Patrick smile, watching the other man proceed, miserable as sin, up to the front door. As Pat waited for Pete to unlock the door, he glanced up and thought something selfish before mentally scolding himself. It wasn't Pete's fault that he was stuck in a shit hole with nothing but the sound of an obnoxious dog's bark which never ceased. He'd just been fired, so It would only get worse from here on out. Patrick's face ached from the constant brow-furrowing. He was too invested in a strangers life.

The first thing to hit Patrick when he walked into Pete's house was the smell. It stunk, making Patrick suppress a gag. Pete himself didn't really smell, he just looked a little bit unkempt, but who could blame the guy, he couldn't see himself even with a mirror. Pat understood why It smelled as soon as he walked in, his eyes tiredly flitting to the carpet of the lounge. Bowls and cups lay over all surfaces, some had been clearly misplaced and had fallen to the floor, smashing in their wake. The maintenance of the kitchen was clearly attempted by Pete, the sink was full of bowls, plates and the like, but to no avail. Everywhere was a mess. Pete sniffed again, and Patrick couldn't take it. His heart hurt. This man- this boy was helpless. He couldn't do anything for himself, it was too difficult. He had to suppress a sob.

Pete yawned and just told Patrick to "crash on the couch or whatever" before joking about Patrick 'robbing him blind - bah dum tsh' and drunkenly stumbling into his bedroom. 

The door shut.

Patrick set to work immediately, without a word. He carefully extracted the broken glass which littered the area around the couch, to avoid a sliced foot (or something worse). He then swept up, avoiding the need to use a hoover, so as to not wake Pete. He worked tirelessly through the night. In due time, the minimalist apartment became immaculate, lacking a single misplaced piece of cutlery. Patrick smiled, satisfied with his work. Collapsing onto the couch, he fell asleep almost instantly.

 

 

7:21am: Mom: Patrick, where in gods green earth are you? I'm waiting outside your apartment right now. Get your booty over here!

Patrick shot up at his phone's notification, gripping his face and groaning. His mother. Of fucking course. He left a voicemail on Pete's machine and fled, checking his pockets to see if he still had his phone. Instead, he found his fucking house key. Of course. He hadn't even lost it.


	4. Duality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am pissed off, so I was listening to slipknot - duality (ikr edgy af boiii) and decided to write this lil thing to carry on the story. Enjoy you homunculus's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oo-oo-ooh I was meaning to ask, opinions on adding ryden as we go cuz I'm up for that. Maybe some frerard? Lemme know ya ships boys!

Pete's eyes cracked open hesitantly. They had no reason to, It's not like he could see the morning sun surpassing the skyscrapers which surrounded his apartment anyway. Remembering that he had a guest over struck instant panic into his heart. He felt groggy, feeling around desperately for his phone and wallet. Patrick hadn't taken them. Pete smiled, he knew he could trust the younger boy. Pat seemed to have a gentle quality, even when he was drunk. It was nice that Pete had found someone he could trust, regardless of if they remained friends.

Speaking of Patrick...

Pete walked out of his room, carefully- as usual. He called out to Patrick but received no answer. Screwing up his face, he touched the TV. Nope, it was still here. Then, his machine beeped. He pressed the voicemail button.

"Hi, Pete, I had to run, I'm sorry, my old woman shot me a text. I'm not an asshole who uses you for drinks and a place to stay but then I leave. I'll be at your house either today or tomorrow. See ya later dude!"

Pete smiled at the message, releasing a breath which he hadn't even noticed he was holding. He inhaled, his eyebrow quirking at the smell. His apartment smelled... Clean?

Pete couldn't clean, he couldn't see for fucks sake, he was too poor to afford a maid too. There is no way to get around that. He felt around, searching for the cutlery and crockery which littered his home. It was to no avail. Had Patrick tidied up? Pete sat down, defeated. Why the shit was he welling up?

*Part 2 to come soon*


	5. I have a habit of naming chapters after songs im listening to and sometimes they're embarrassing af lol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mega bitch (lol that reference)- aka patricia stump - aka biatch and the cutest lil vegan bodybuilder in the east show up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am v tired but i decided to carry on with my upload streak. Enjoy. Sorry if i make mistakes ever, I'm good at catching them generally, but they ARE un-beta'd!
> 
> Emotions are gonna run high in a few chaters boys ya juss don kno it yet *click* *click*

Sprinting at full pelt towards his apartment, Patrick tried to maintain his breath.

"Not right now athsma- fack, agh" He gulped down air, trying to run the final stretch.

He was generally fit, well, fit for a nerdy little man who barely did anything (except numerous things which required sitting). He came to a halt as he saw his mother stood there, same Stump features as her kids. She was stood with a man who had his back turned and hood up. Patrick hesitantly walked forward. He puffed his chest in some kind of display of masculinity at the sight of the seemingly huge man.

"Mom, Hi!" He said, trying to sound enthused. 

"Patrick! We have been waiting over half an hour! Where were you?"

"Who's we?" Patrick quizzed. The man turned, a face Patrick knew and loved smiled gleefully at him, reflecting Patrick's emotions perfectly.

"Trick!" Andy beamed, clasping Patrick into a tight hug. "How's things been buddy?"

Patrick was feeling a flurry of emotion. His best friend, all the way from Julliard university was here, but he was so ripped. Where was the skinny kid that shared Patricks dorm room. Nowhere, he had evolved into a beast (though, notably still just as short as the day they'd met).

"Things are A-okay here in the windy city, how's LA, and- Well, why the fuck are you here?"

"Patrick, Language!" Scolded his mother, instantly Patrick hit back with the instinctual "Sorry ma." which always got drilled into him from a young age.

"And for god's sake, stand up straight, your slouching makes me feel tired just looking at you."

"Well, LA isn't working so good. Sam's Parents kicked her out when she came out as Bi, so here we are. She's just in the Starbucks round the block."

"Oh. Sorry man. Well, come in, I need a cup of coffee. Mom, you comin'?"

His mother rolled her eyes as Andy looked around the city-scape. His eyes were wide with adoration. Patrick had felt that as a kid, a born and raised Chicagoan, he loved this place. With all of his heart.

As they got inside the apartment, his mother tutted, her judging eyes prying, invading Patrick's own private slice of heaven. She was picking apart his living space. Since his parents were well off, Patrick could afford a nice apartment, to hold his prized possession, a Yamaha C3X Grand Piano, in Satin Ebony if we were gonna get into specifics. It was never good enough for 'ma'. 

After a while of talking and a few cups of coffee with Andy as Patrick's mother quietly picked apart their conversation, 'ma' came over, flattening Patrick's expertly jelled hair, succeeding in irritating him. She was a little overbearing, but she was his mom, so what could he do?

"Patrick, why don't you have a job, or a girlfriend or anything worth living for. You're in a dead end position, just like i said. I am always right, that's what I said before you moved back here, didn't I? See, i am always right. You're failing us. I am truly disappointed with the path you have chosen for yourself. Honestly, I raised you better than this. I think you should come and stay back at home, where your life is secure and-"

"I don't want secure!" Patrick groaned, clearly releasing pent up frustration. Andy sat awkwardly between them on the couch, looking into his coffee and laughing at whatever Patrick said. Andy didn't much care for Tricks mom. Trick didn't care much for tricks mom either. 

Face scrunched like a prune, Patrick's mother stomped her high heel, slapped her coffee over and stormed out.

"That escalated quickly..." Laughed Andy, picking up the broken coffee mug. Patrick sighed. He shouldn't have-

"Hey, so about this being kicked out thing, I was thinking... Do you think It'd be cool if I moved here? Cuz I think it would be and Sam seems to love it here, there's a gym and it's great but if you-"

"Stop trying to excuse yourself. You had me at "Move here" Hurley. Get your shit. It's settled. Julliard 2.0 baby!" He screeched in a mock Boston accent, laughing.

Andy nodded and hugged Patrick tightly before running off to go and let Sam know.

After all of the dust had settled, Patrick sat at his piano, aimlessly fiddling with keys, creating beautiful melodies which would never be heard of again, daydreaming about Pete. Pete. The heterosexual.

Patrick's head slammed down onto the piano top in pure frustration. He grunted.


	6. Medicine - joji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapters title is a song by joji (the man who used to be filthy frank but retired) and i cry when i hear it, it's so beautiful. It helps me write and relax and feel existential but calm at the same time. You should listen to it and appreciate it, because it is truly a work of art. I genuinely suggest listening to it on a loop as you read this chapter. It doesn't have many words, but it is packed with feelings.

It had been a few days since Patrick's birthday, around 3 since he saw his mother. Patrick sighed and pulled his phone out from inside of his pocket. Clicking the power button and checking the time, he groaned. It was 9PM and he had done nothing except watch tv and eat. Pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and tightening them with a belt, he walked out to his balcony.

The cold air swirled, hitting Patrick's chest, making him sigh contentedly. He absolutely adored his city, the fact made clear by Patrick's constant awe-struck expression every time he focused on his surroundings. He smiled and scanned the sprawling city-scape which lay before him and it left a strange warmth in his stomach, something like pride, a sense of belonging. He smirked, walking back into his apartment. He left the door open and played his piano loudly into the night sky. It was to the tune of a song he had heard once. He cried when he heard it that one time, could never find it again, but the melody stuck with him eternally. He sat quietly, appreciating the beautiful sounds emanating from his grand piano and let himself go. Patrick closed his eyes. He cried. A lot. It felt good. Sometimes closing your eyes makes things less scary.

Feeling a strange sense of existential dread mixed with acceptance, dazed, he got dressed and headed out. His heart knew where he was going without a second consideration, he didn't even think about it.

Knocking on the door to Pete's apartment, he breathed into his hands to warm them. No one answered. Patrick's breath billowed up like smoke from a wild fire. He watched it dance before him in the night sky, lit up by a dim porch light. The melody still played in his head. Ringing the buzzer to a random apartment, he said hi and asked if Pete lived there and if Patrick had the right place. The person on the other side was silent. No answer. No one home. Patrick decided to try the door anyway, just in case.The door surprisingly still opened though. Patrick hesitantly walked in and made his way to Pete's apartment. The door was wide open. Starting to feel a little bit of worry, Patrick walked in, looking for Pete. Nobody was there. Patrick heard a noise from the bedroom and gulped. Grabbing the signed baseball bat from the corner of the kitchen, Patrick prepared to defend his friend. He walked in hesitantly, nudging the door open with the bat.

He dropped the bat.

Pete was sat, crumpled on the floor, wailing, hot tears staining bony knees as his face rested in his folded lap. He shook with sobs. Patrick's brave facade dropped and so did he. He fell to his knees, arms encasing Pete. He looked so small and vulnerable, it hurt Patrick's heart. Patrick shushed Pete, stroking his back in an attempt to console him. Pete's arms flew up and gripped Patrick into a tight embrace.

"Thank you.. Thank you so much, I appreciate you so much-I..." Pete struggled to get out, voice wavering as he spoke in stuttered sobs. Patrick shushed him.

"Thank you for tidying up- I." Pete re-tried, gripping even tighter than before.

"It was honestly nothing, no big deal, don't worry about it-" Patrick tried, feeling strangely close to this man he barely knew.

"I just- I have absolutely nobody, no one to help me, nobody to tell me they love me or to tell me that i look like shit. Nobody to tell me that i forgot to file my paperwork. Nobody to tell me that I can do this. Nobody to tell me that life is worth it. Thank you so much, you don't even grasp- I need someone- I need you-" He rushed out, breath shaky and hesitant.

"Hush. I have nobody either. I know how it feels, I mean- most days I can't even find a reason to get out of bed, I hate mys- No, no more misery. Let's just..." Patrick tried, speaking without any thought. He brushed Pete's hair out of his eyes and wiped his tears.

"Everything's gonna work out well. Don't worry Pete."

 

After Pete had calmed down a little more, Patrick lay him in bed, tucking him in. As he attempted to take his leave, Pete stopped him with a hand on his wrist. 

"Stay with me. Please?" Pete whispered desperately. Without much hesitation, Patrick nodded.

"Always." Patrick lay behind him, like a big spoon, holding tight to the older boy. It hurt that Pete was straight. The melody still playing in his head, he began to drift into a peaceful sleep.

His slumber was interrupted after a while when Pete spoke softly, as if to himself.

"Thank you."

Patrick smiled and fell back asleep.


	7. forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PURELY PLATONIC SLEEP OVER BTW, IT WAS NOT PETERICK CONFIRMED FOLKS. JUST TWO BROS CHILLIN IN A HOT TUB 5 FEET APART CUZ THEYRE NOT GAY (Please understand that reference or i sound like a twat) Anyways, my relationship with my best mate is like this, one girl one boy and its like really close. We would never date, we know too much about each other lol. Yay for *platonic* Peterick. Pete TOTALLY doesn't love Patrick. Yeh ahem.

"So about yesterday..." Pete started awkwardly, stroking Patrick's hair as the boy lay his head on Pete's chest.

"I get it. It's fine, no big deal."

"But it is. Thank you. A million times over. You're the only person who's been kind to me since i moved here. To most, I'm just that blind kid. The only time anyone cared was when i was a fake-ass jock stereotype." He raised his voice, getting more vexxed as he went on.

"Honestly, Pete, I'm happy to do things like that for you. What kind of best friend doesn't help you out when you need it?" Pete stiffened at his words.

"Best friend?"

"I mean, OBVIOUSLY!" Patrick rolled his eyes, jokingly punching Pete's shoulder as he sat up.

"Get dressed fool. We going to lunch!" Pete scoffed.

"I'm not some 60's housewife that you can boss around and expect me to cook you dinner!" Pete scowled mockingly, earning a chuckle from the smaller man.

 

The two ended up in an Italian bistro which looked a little like the diner off 'riverdale'. Patrick loved that show. Mmmmm Jughead Jones bitc- Wait what? Anyway. The two were laughing quietly at seemingly nothing, sometimes calming down, just to go silent and burst with cackles of laughter immediately afterwards. They were overgrown toddlers.

They shared a pizza the size of Patrick, Pete eating as if he'd just got out of prison. Patrick just sat back and watched Pete. Not in a creepy way, in an 'awwww look at you' kind of way. Admiring the view, Patrick faded into his own little world, his eyes blurring. Daydreaming was a habit of Patrick's.

Patrick stood in a field. It was golden, highlighted by the relentless sun. Pete was there, he had a kid sat on him, they were both giggling and rolling around. The kid looked a lot like Patrick. He tried to make his way over to them but was broken out of his thoughts by a noise.

"You're staring. 'Tricky, you forget, i have superpowers." Patrick blushed

"Was not! Your powers suck" He attempted lamely. Pete chuckled, not believing his weak protests.

"Pete, If you don't mind, and I would completely understand you being pissed at me bringing this up... But how did you go blind?" Patrick tried, stuttering from his -apparent- sudden nerves.

The slice of pizza that Pete held to his mouth was dropped instantly. Patrick gulped. Had he struck a nerve? Should he be ready for a fist to the face?

Pete sniffed and started to think, face screwing up slightly.

"So, One day, just after graduation, I went drinking with a bunch of my dickhead 'friends' who have now abandoned me. I went home and fell asleep. When I woke up, it was really dark. I thought that maybe I'd slept until late at night. That was when i thought 'Pete, you can still see in the dark' and i started to panic. I walked to turn on my light. It didn't work, I couldn't see. At this point, I was in denial. I said to myself 'maybe the bulb is broken, you don't know Pete'. That was when I grabbed my phone after stumbling around to find it for a while. I pressed the button so I could see the screen. Just blackness. I screamed, loud, unforgiving. I was there for hours, screaming. My vocal chords were literally bleeding and torn. I couldn't speak for weeks. Nobody came to see me, except my 'best friend' who came to tell me that he was fucking my girlfriend. She didn't even break up with me herself. I hate her for that." Pete grumbled out the last sentence with more venom than Patrick had ever heard.

That put them off their dinner, needless to say.


	8. Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OOOF I've been gone a while. Anyways, this is gonna be a bit of a rollercoaster-fic so strap in, anyone out there who cares in any way.
> 
> This chapter spicy af

After weeks of dinners and bars and talking, Pete and Patrick had grown to be as thick as thieves, doing everything together. Since neither had jobs, their days would be spent at Starbucks; the nights wasted away by endless conversations between the dynamic duo. No matter how long they spent together, Patrick always left feeling a certain kind of unsatisfied, wishing they could be talking still. It was as any other day was, 2am and they were sat in that seedy little bar, the one where they went when they'd first met. They'd grown to love the dodgy patrons, the stench of smoke and debauchery. They even grew to appreciate the grumpy barkeep, who shot them dirty looks when they ordered him about in various accents, night after night. His name was Ryan and he was a hoot.

Pete snorted at one of Patrick's jokes, throwing a peanut up into the air, catching it in his mouth. Patrick wondered how the fuck a blind kid could do that. Pete smiled and told him to quit staring. He really did have superpowers. Patrick wanted to go home, he was fairly drink, but he wanted to stay and talk to Pete.

"I KNOW!" He drunkenly yelled, causing Pete, Ryan and a nearby hooker to hold their chests in shock. Noticing this, he quietened down a little.

"We should have a... Sleeeeeepover! My place! I called dibs!" He giggled, leaning onto Pete. Pete nodded, standing immediately, looking way too excited. Patrick followed.

On the way home, they walked by that little Bistro they had been when Pete told Patrick how he went blind. As they passed, Patrick happened to glance in, only to find Josh and Tyler sharing spaghetti, Lady-and-the-Tramp style. It sobered Patrick right up. All of their romance and happiness made him sick to his stomach with jealousy. He curled his fist and started to stomp down the street, stalking the path down to where his luxury apartment was situated. As he got there, he had calmed down enough to be laughing with Pete again, ignoring his resentment of people who were happy. Happier than him, at least. They made their way into the building as Pete sniffed.

"How does your apartment block smell so damn good?" He chortled. Patrick shrugged forlornly, feeling mildly guilt about the contrast between his house and Pete's.

As they made it upto Patricks apartment, Pete laughed incredulously at how big it was. 

"Your place is so big that it has it's own echo, Pat! You're so lucky!" He span around, arms gracefully swirling along with him. He was making the most of the space.

Patrick just walked in slowly, throwing his door key into the bowl next to the entrance. He hummed and asked what Pete wanted to eat. Pete suggested ramen- pretty much the only thing Pete ever ate since it was cheap and easy to cook. Patrick told him he was going to cook him something nice instead. Pete had no idea what to suggest, so Patrick set about cooking him some Coq Au Vin- or expensive alcoholic chicken. Everybody loves chicken, don't they. And besides, Patrick only wanted to make it because he loved speaking french so damn much. When he told Pete that he could go have a shower as He cooked their meal, It was totally innocent. Pete beamed at him and practically sprinted away to find the bathroom, though counting how many steps he took out loud- a way to help navigate new places.

The chicken was marinating, the sauce simmering, vegetables baking and wine chilling. Wow, having a personal chef at home as a child really taught him how to cook. Must've rubbed off. Since there was nothing to do for a while, and since Pete had been silent for a good 45 minutes, Patrick headed to the bathroom to check if his friend had drowned or something. As he approached, he heard the shower running through the open door.

Upon looking in, Patrick sheepishly scanned the room for his friend. His eyes stopped in their tracks.

There he was. The most beautiful man in the world. Hot streams of water ran down his chest as water vapour dissipated and swirled throughout the steamy bathroom. His head was tilted back, the stream of water hitting his angelic face directly. He looked happy, at peace. Then he saw Pete's body. His ribs stuck out like someone with malnutrition would appear, his spine stood out, rigid on his back and just about every part of his chest was skin and bone. He saw the muscle underneath his translucent skin shift as the man moved. It made Patrick hurt, physically. He didn't allow his eyes to wander below the belt, that'd be unfair since Pete didn't know he was there. As he went to turn back to his cooking, Pete started.

"Wait- Don't go. Pat-" He called out and a shocked Patrick didn't hesitate. He walked backwards, returning to his outpost.

"I- well, i know you were watching... I just wanted to uhm... I like girls. I'm not gay, okay?... But sometimes I kinda wanna kiss you." He had a lopsided, unsure smile on his face, hand scratching his neck in a nervous habit.

Patrick strode over and- They were kissing. Yep. It was happening. Pete curled his fingers into Patrick's hair, unsure, as they both stood under the downpour of water. It ran down Patrick's face and flattened his hair. Pete laughed between stuttered pecks and nips. He was so adorably optimistic. Patrick bit his lip. That shut Pete up. He moaned and slid his tongue into the shorter man's mouth. Patrick melted, he didn't even care about his clothes getting wet, he just went with it. They both embraced under the downpour, glued together. Pete pulled Pats knee to rest on the side of his leg, deepening the kiss. It was slow and tender, as if they'd done it a thousand times before, still a hint of nervousness and excitement though. Then Patrick realised that Pete was naked and blushed. That meant that Patrick was mere inches away from- NOPE! Stop, take it slow you thot. He kissed along Pete's jawline, nipping and sucking, hoping to leave a mark. He-

 

The fire alarm was ringing.

"FUCK!" Right now? This moment? Really? Eyes were rolled.

Patrick hesitantly hopped out of the shower, groaning and stripping his shirt off. The food had set on fire. Excellent. He slapped it with his soaking wet shirt, burning and ruining the collar and a sleeve. Pete ran out with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

Nothing could put a dampener on the night now, though. 

Pete; just a little bit gayer than anticipated.

Patrick smiled at Pete, eyes scrunching, head tilting. Pete returned the favour.


	9. Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a week break from school, so it means I'm feeling waaaaaaay more upbeat. FLUFF TIME BOIS! Update soon hopefully

Pete leaned into his touch, smiling and tucking himself deeper into the cover. Patrick stroked his cheek, pecking his lips. They'd agreed not to sleep together yet, but the sleepover was going to happen no matter what. Since the meal plan which Patrick had created was executed, Flambé style, they'd ordered in a pizza instead. 'Netflix and chill' but without the chill was on the cards too. They stayed up all night, just talking. They only realised this when the first solitary stream of sunlight invaded Patrick's vision, causing him to hiss like a vampire and hide his face in the crook of Pete's neck. Pete giggled and faked sucking Patrick's blood, tenderly kissing his neck. For a straight man, he felt strangely at ease with kissing another man. Huh.

Patrick got up before Pete, leaving him curled in the fresh white linen bedspread. He pulled some black skinny jeans on over his boxers, hopping around to attempt some kind of balance. Pete stared up at him in curiosity, only his eyes protruding from the covers, along with his bed-head. After a long while of complaining that he didn't want to, Pete got up too, ready for a whole day of job searching. Patrick offered to go with him but he shook his head after a moment of consideration.

"I'll look pathetic if I have a 'wing man' when practically begging for employment. Though I may come back here later..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning a playful shoulder-punch from Patrick.

Pete caught his forearm mid-air, pulling Patrick in and kissing him hard. Patrick got his signature unsure look on his face.

"What?"

"Well, I thought you were straight. I have to know, does this mean anything to you? If it doesn't then..." He looked hurt at the prospect but Pete just chuckled.

"Of fucking course it does. You're my best friend, the only person I have, even if i didn't like you in the same way you like me, we'd still be as close, because you matter Patrick." He smiled, cupping the smaller man's cheeks.

After what seemed like an eternity of goodbyes, Pete went on his merry way, resumé in hand, heart in throat. Patrick grinned after him, watching him walk away nervously. As soon as he fell out of view, Patrick practically ripped his phone out of his jeans. He didn't even have to think about who he was calling before he had pressed 'Tyjo' on speed dial.

"Hey Pat, how's things?"

"Fine, how was your date with Josh last night?" Tyler spluttered, unsure as to how to continue.

"You know, in the diner, spaghetti and chill?" He could practically feel Tyler blushing. It was delicious.

"Well, we were just... TALKING! Yeah! Yaknow, just two heterosexual males, conversating over a pasta dish." He was speaking like someone who had just come from another planet, trying- and failing- to cover up their date. Patrick entertained him, though.

"Oh, of course, that's what it looked like." He held his laughter.

"Anyways, starbu-"

"YES! I mean, yes, okay, starbucks please!" Patrick heard a sleepy josh ask Tyler to come to bed and subsequently, Tyler shushed him.

"Okay, seeya in 10." The call ended. Patrick smiled. They were so painfully obvious.


	10. New York city has no power - Pheobe buffay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written during a real life blackout, I was drawing on my pc then woosh, the fucking lights die. Yay. So I'm writing this on my data plan instead. Coffee shop tirade feat. Tyjo

Patrick sat on one of the high stools by the windows, his breath billowing out, condensing and fogging up the Starbucks window as he huffed, fisting his cheek in boredom. Tyler said ten minutes, didn't he? So why was he 35 minutes late. Oh, of course.

Josh.

Literally any task in Tyler's day which didn't include josh , he was always late for it. Probably apologizing and kissing him endlessly for leaving him alone for a solitary moment. Or they could be having sex. Patrick didn't want to think about that, it made him uncomfortable, for two reasons.

One, eww it was his best friend and his best friend's clingy boyfriend who never wanted to be 5 metres away from him, not a nice thing to imagine them doing it.

Two, and Patrick was embarrassed to admit it, but he was pretty much a virgin. Being a nerd with high maintenance parents means that there's little freedom to be intimate with people, and when the time came for collage, Patrick was always way too nervous, due to years of being socially awkward and inept. Plus he was a hopeless romantic, so everyone he ever kissed HAD to mean something to him. Except that one time when he had kissed Andy back in his college days at juliard, but that was a bad combination of cheap liquor and a cheesy romantic comedy starring Jennifer Aniston (who else?).

At that moment, a loud but cool voice rang out, disrupting Patrick from his thoughts. Strutting coolly over, Tyler winked at Patrick, flashing a goofy grin. Patrick rolled his eyes and stood to greet his friend.

Both wordlessly began towards the desk to order their drinks, for Tyler an 'Iced Caffe Mocha', Venti, and for Patrick a 'White Chocolate Mocha Frappuccino', grande. They got this every single time they came, so Tyler just had to nod at the worker and he got to work, making their usual order. It always made Patrick consider the fact that he might be addicted to Starbucks, but he soon forgot all about it when he tasted his coffee.

The two sat on the swirly chairs at the back of the shop, (the ones with the really comfy cushions which Tyler loved) and sipped their orders in a blissful silence. They were the definition of basic, incarnate. Patrick stared off into thin air, thinking about Pete.Tyler broke the silence by laughing at seemingly nothing.

"What?" Patrick asked grumpily, Tyler was laughing at him.

"I know that look, you're totally banging someone, aren't you?" Tyler grinned, holding back a laugh.

"Pft, yeah, I wish..." He retorted but Tyler wasn't buying it. He leaned closer and looked into Patrick's eyes.

"You totally ARE! You can't hide it from me, I'm an expert."

"How are you an expert, you haven't had a girlfriend since college!" Patrick shot back, knowing full well about his relationship with Josh. Tyler went quiet.

"Shut the fuck up." He laughed weakly at Patrick, avoiding the possibility of his bi-sexuality.

Another comfortable silence fell over them, Patrick now wanted to escape further interrogation, so he excused himself and went to the bathroom. He texted Pete from one of the stalls, hoping that he would be able to read texts some how, maybe using siri? He wondered how blind people could text, since Pete had text him before. Sure, there was a lack of grammar and poor spelling, but i mean. its impressive that he could even use a phone.

So Tyler didn't get suspicious of what Patrick was doing in the bathroom, he left after a few minutes of getting no reply from Pete.

Tyler was staring at him as he walked back to his seat, looking like he was trying to figure out what was going on, his eyes squinted. Patrick sat, tyler continued to stare.

"There's definitely something off, why did you wanna meet up anyways? There's something you're not telling me and I swear-"

"Okay! Okay. So, there's this guy..." Patrick said carefully, slowly forming each word.

"I fucking knew it! I know you, I'm like a psychic! I should open a palm reading booth... Hey, so tell me about this 'guy'. Is he cute? Is he tall? Does he play in a band? I know you find that hot, you know, musicians."

"Stop. Talking." Patrick laughed, putting his hands steadily onto Tyler's shoulders. Tyler nodded for Patrick to go on, so he took a deep breath.

"Okay, so I met him when we went to see that tribute act, the one for my birthday-"

"Hey that was weeks ago, how come i haven't met him yet? I-"

"I'm not finished. Okay so, I thought I was locked out, i couldn't find my key, but it was late so I couldn't call a handyman. One thing led to another and i ended up walking through the Park, the one near Starbucks. You know the one?" Tyler nodded absently, "... and well it was really frickin' dark, so i bumped into this thing and it fell over. That was the guy. That was Pete."

"So you knocked this 'Pete' over, big deal. What kind of name is Peter anyways? They should watch where they're going. " Tyler retorted.

"That's the worst part... He can't watch where he is going, he... Pete is blind."

"Wait, serious, no joke?"

"Yeah, dead serious, he even uses one of those sticks and shit like that."

"Okay... But, how did you guys end up hooking up?"

"We haven't. We... We've slept at each others places before, but we never had s... Never did anything more than kiss." Patrick blushed, his inexperience showing.

"Oooh, was it gooood?" Yup, Tyler was definitely a little queer. Patrick nodded enthusiastically in response.

"How does it work, the whole 'blind' thing?" He asked and Pat shrugged.

"It just does, he counts his movements or something so he can retrace steps, and he seems to have like a psychic ability, he knows when I look at him. It's weird but awesome at the same time."

"So he is psychic, like me?" Tyler laughed, light-hearted. Patrick rolled his eyes. His phone made a notification sound and he smiled.

"Speak of the devil, that's him you're texting, isn't it?"

Patrick shot him a dirty look and texted back.

P-DOG- Hi 'trick, I wasz thinkin that we could go 2 te moviees tonight? The nw 50 shads of grey is out rn. U dwn?

Patrick smiled at the lack of grammar. It still shocked him that Pete could manage texting.

Trickster- But you won't be able to see the screen?

P-DOG- I can use myy inagination ;))

Patrick giggled and Tyler read the screen out of curiosity.

"Gross."

"Whaaaaat? It's not like you and Josh don't-" Patrick stopped himself and started to giggle as he saw Tyler turn beetroot-red.

"Me and Josh nothing. Josh and I are straight as they come. Yup, shut up." He rushed out, making little sense. Patrick nodded, holding his laughter with bated breath. It was hard pretending like they weren't dating when it was so obvious.

"Sure, anyways, I got me a date with the handsome-est man in Chicago, you get back to your... Whatever or whoever it is you do when I'm gone." He grinned and left wordlessly, nodding to his best friend as a farewell.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *rubs neck nervously*  
> So... Its been a while...  
> Lol sorry i have exams coming in hot and its getting me down.
> 
> Anyways, on with the show!
> 
> Beginning is kinda Patrick's thoughts, bear with me bruddas
> 
> Sorta short but hey, so am i.
> 
> New fic possibly incoming: guitar teacher x student. Im not sure how the ages will work, it'll work though.
> 
> Boss called, no work today so i forced myself to write

As Patrick rounded the corner, his smile widened; he was anticipating this all day. He'd decided to take Pete up on his offer of going to the movies. Patrick would pay, though- of course- since Pete had no job or source of income. Fifty shades: Freed had just come out, and as much as Patrick didn't very much enjoy *that* sort of film, he did enjoy Pete's company.

In fact, that's bullshit, Patrick was terrified. As Emma from 'glee' would put it, he was "terrified of the hose-monster", or put more simply, deathly afraid of intimacy. This is because intimacy leads to sex, sex means naked-ness, both physically and emotionally. Porn was fine, kissing is a piece of cake but sex? Nope! No-no-no. Nooooo. He felt a little stupid, immature maybe? But that's what a sheltered childhood and overbearing atmosphere for growth creates: Fear. No matter, Patrick was gonna get though this, though the thought of bearing his soul, the prospect of opening up like that, struck him with the fear of god.

Pete would understand, right? Right. Pete is nice and considerate. But what if he's watching this cuz he's into some kinky shit? What if he is some kind of craven sex-fiend? What if he is faking being blind so he can murder Patrick in his sleep? What if- Why was Patrick like this? It's just a movie, it's just a nice, normal guy. Patrick shook his head and pushed forward and closer to the theatre.

 

Pushing open the door to the cinema, Patrick spotted Pete instantly, he was grinning from ear to ear, right at him, an un-expectant Pete holding a bona fide barrel of popcorn and a HUGE fanta with 2 straws. Patrick returned his smile, though Pete wouldn't be able to see it anyways, greeting his... What were they? Boyfriends? Fuckbuddies? Confused? Patrick shook his head and hugged Pete. Nothing mattered, except his stupid little jokes and his kind smile.

Pete grinned, noting out loud that Patrick was 20 minutes early and saying something along the lines of 'Missing me already?' with a chuckle. Patrick wondered how he always had such a happy outlook on life, being in the situation he is. Pete just walked towards the ticket... Thing, hips swaying, humming a familiar tune.

Pete had already bought tickets, so the pair went straight into screen 4. Patrick gulped, kinda nervous to see an adult movie with his... Love interest? Whatever. When the adverts came to an end, he was practically sweating, his knee bouncing nervously.

When the film started though, it opened on the title 'black panther' and Patrick released a breath which he hadn't noticed he was holding. Laughing incredulously, he tapped Pete, checking if he was confused or this was purposeful. Pete just smiled back.

"I know how uncomfortable you feel about stuff like that, i was just teasing you 'Tricky." Patrick pouted and punched him weakly, no fire behind it.

Pete shushed him, putting a finger on his lips and kissing his cheek, earning a blush. They both settled into the film. It was great.


End file.
